


Hastings Makes Another Mistake

by coppersky



Category: Poirot - Agatha Christie
Genre: Angst, Fluff, Gen, Pre-Slash
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-11-16
Updated: 2014-11-16
Packaged: 2018-02-25 14:36:18
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 609
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2625368
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/coppersky/pseuds/coppersky
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Hastings does something utterly foolish, much to the annoyance of his dear friend.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Hastings Makes Another Mistake

**Author's Note:**

> Again, another ficlet written at the end of 2010 and posted here with minimal editing. Enjoy :)

There were only two things that could annoy Hercule Poirot to the point where he would pace around a room muttering vicious Gallic phrases to himself and, besides having improperly starched collars, the foolish mistakes of one Captain Arthur Hastings was just the thing that today drove Poirot to do such.

“You know I’m _awfully_ sorry about all this, Poirot. I really didn’t mean any harm by it. All I was trying to do was help wit-” He was cut short by the abrupt outburst of Poirot.

“Tchah!” He stopped pacing and stared at Hastings, green eyes turning alarmingly dark. “Hastings, of all of the stupid, idiotic things you have ever done, I would have to say this is the most stupid and idiotic of _all_ of them!”

“But Poi-”

“But nothing, Hastings. What in the name of le Bon Dieu possessed you to go out into the middle of the street, right in the _middle_ of the shooting! You would have been killed if the Chief Inspector hadn’t called his men off!”

“I- I…” Hastings couldn’t think of any reply. What he had done was stupid and idiotic, and he knew it. Poirot was right to be reprimanding him so, and Hastings knew his friend, if he still _was_ a friend, was being far more kind than was Hastings’ due. Back in the street, Hastings had heard Poirot plead with Japp to let him deal with Hastings rather than leave it to the Chief Inspector himself, who was livid at the time and probably still fuming back at Scotland Yard that very minute.

“Hastings,” Poirot’s voice brought Hastings back from his daydream, and as his friend sat down, Hastings tried to explain.

“I know what you must be thinking, Poirot, that I’ve ruined the whole plan, and it’s true. I did mess the whole thing up; I scared half of the policemen to death thinking they might’ve hit me by mistake and I let the man we were chasing escape. Japp’s furious at me for costing him all that time he put into planning the ambush, and then your row with Japp just so he wouldn’t knock my lights out... I mucked the whole thing up immensely, old boy, and I can’t say just how sorry I really am.” Hastings sniffed and blinked his damp eyes discreetly. Poirot stared at Hastings for some time before he spoke.

“Hastings, it does not matter that the criminal escaped. Nor does it matter that Chief Inspector Japp would very much like to knock out your lights;” he paused, and Hastings had to stop himself from trying to speak again; he didn’t want to interrupt what was beginning to sound like the pardon he was entirely undeserving of, but desired so much. “The only thing that matters is that you are safe, _mon cher_.” Hastings nearly fell off his chair, but Poirot continued, ignorant. “If Japp had not called those men off when he did, you would have died. I am not angry, Hastings, I am _relieved_. If you had been shot...” There was silence for a minute before one man had the courage to speak.

“You know I can never apologise enough, Poirot. What I did was stupid. I didn’t even think. But you know I’ll never do it again, old boy; the last thing I want to do is- well, you know. I’d never do that to you.” Hastings spoke his last sentence cautiously, but Poirot smiled sweetly back at the man.

“I take your promise, mon cher. Never again will Arthur Hastings be so foolish as he was tonight.” The two men beamed at each other across the desk.


End file.
